The Broken Toy
by knee-high-socks-and-doctor-who
Summary: Late one night, Loki shows up chained and muzzled in Steve's bedroom, scared out of his mind. According to Bruce, he's lost his memory, and he still has yet to venture onto the road of recovery for his damaged mind and body. Steve only wants to help and make him happy, while the other Avengers stay distant and cold. Steve/Loki.
1. Let Go

The couple has officially taken over my life.

* * *

**Song:**

**Let Go- Frou Frou  
**

* * *

It's too late for things like this to happen.

I let the door fall open in front of me, and I stumble bleary eyed and tired into my dark room. The light that floods in from the hallway illuminates something, a figure crouched at the end of my bed and I freeze. My instincts immediately take over and my body goes stiff, but the muffled, pleading whimper that manages to escape the creature's lips stops me. The two of us are quiet and still, waiting for the other to make their move but neither does.

I recognize the figure immediately.

_Loki._

But he looks far different than the last time I've seen him. His facial features are left hollow and gaunt looking, and red rims his eyes as if he's been sobbing. He's muzzled and chained like before, but his clothing is torn and ripped and there are cuts and bruises peeking through the slashes made at the cloth.

This is not the Loki we knew.

I move forward hesitantly with an outstretched hand as if I'm approaching a feral dog, and Loki scuttles backwards, scared. The muzzle appears to have been thrown on haphazardly, which makes sense as to why he was able to let the whimper escape from before. I move slower this time as I approach further, but he still just crawls away with wide eyes.

"Tony," I breathe out, unsure if the intercom has even picked it up.

Jarvis answers instead. "Hello, Mr. Rogers. Mr. Stark is asleep at the moment, would like for me to wake him?"

I nod, and then remember to speak. "Yes, Jarvis. Immediately."

* * *

"So you're telling me, that Loki here has no memories whatsoever?"

Bruce raises his hand as if pardoning himself before speaking. "From what I've asked him, he remembers his name."

"His _name?_" Fury looks enraged, and he illustrates it by slamming his fist into the meeting table. "Loki, the bane of each of our existences, is sitting in the other room with no memory except for _his name_?"

"Correct, sir."

"Does he still have his abilities?"

Bruce coughs into his fist. "I haven't checked for that yet. But from what I've gathered, my hypothesis is that after he was transferred to Asgard for punishment, his memory was erased and he was— ah, given his punishment. He's in a critical mental condition."

Fury chews on this for a bit. "He remembers none of us?"

Bruce nods.

"I still don't trust him." That's Clint, sitting on the other end of the table with a scowl on his face. "Whether he's lost his memory or not, he's still a threat. What if he's faking it? He's the God of Lies, this is probably some stupid trick so he can make friends with us and then stab us in the back when we're not looking."

"My brother would never do that," Thor speaks quietly. "Not in the condition he's in. Asgard has reports that he is missing, but I will not speak of his whereabouts to them."

"If he _is _faking it, and somehow deceiving us, he will be disposed of immediately," Fury responds. "But if he makes out to be friendly, then maybe we can put him to use."

"If he's a mortal, he'll be of no use to us," Natasha comments. "Then what will we do? Carry him around like the class pet? He'll be a led weight to us."

Fury holds a hand up. "We still have yet to determine whether or not he is still capable of what he's done before, and if he is we _will _use him to our greater advantage. If he turns out to be as useless as rock, I will deposit him myself onto the streets of New York and leave him there to figure it out himself. I am not fond of this man, even if he doesn't have his memory, and I won't hesitate to get rid of him. Understood?"

We all nod in silent agreement.

* * *

The medical unit that is currently set up in the Stark Tower reminds me of a hospital, all white and sterile and it makes me skin crawl. There are bags of fluids hanging that are connected to an IV that is placed inside Loki's elbow. He sits perched on the top of an examination table, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that looks borrowed and much too big for his skinny, underfed frame. He still has this gaunt look about him, but the majority of the cuts and bruises on his body are patched up. There are scars marring his skin like stitch work, and he seems to be feebly trying to hide them.

Bruce hooks up something else to the IV, and glances up to follow Loki's gaze that's pinned on me. I stand half out of the door, watching with quiet anxiety. I never liked hospitals much, and the scent of cleaners and antibiotics brings back too many memories.

"Oh, Steve," Bruce checks Loki's pulse, and the smaller man almost pulls away, but the scientist's firm grip holds him there. "Come in."

I take a few steps forward, and force a small smile as Loki stares at me with wide, curious blue eyes. He licks his chapped lips, and then attempts at a few words.

"Hi, Steve," if his voice shakes, neither Bruce nor I say anything.

"How are you doing? You look a little better." In truth, he almost looks worse, but the fact that he's talking is a good enough excuse for me.

Loki seems to have lost his Ye Old English speak, and he sounds more mundane with the modern speech. "I'm doing all right," he furrows his brow as Bruce jostles him a bit, checking more vitals. "St-still a bit shocked."

I can imagine. I can't relate directly, but I can empathize. Waking up seventy years later in a city that looks completely different was traumatizing, but the thought of not having any memories at all must be worse.

I swallow back the lump in my throat. "How's everything going, Bruce?"

He shares a look with me that says "_not so good"_, and I understand. "He's getting better. These cuts and bruises will heal in a few days."

Loki shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "I hate these needles," he mutters. "When will I be able to be rid of them?"

Bruce purses his lips. "When I'm done testing."

"What are you testing for?"

He doesn't answer, and instead proceeds with switching out one of the IV bags. Loki gets the message, and just sits quietly until Bruce finishes. The taller man pulls his glasses off his face, and looks towards me.

"I'll be back in a minute," he says, stress pulling his face taut. "You two can chitchat."

He leaves, and I teeter backwards on my heels before coming closer to where Loki sits on the examination table. He seems content with playing with a loose string at the hem of his shirt, and I move to sit next to him. He jolts a bit at the contact of our knees brushing.

"When you're feeling better," I start. "Maybe I could show you some things? I could show you around Stark Tower, and I have a pretty sweet comic book collection… It's nothing, but I know you're feeling pretty down, with what's been happening."

Loki swallows, and seems to be digesting what I've just said. For a moment I actually think he's going to reject me, and I can't explain the feeling of disappointment that settles in my chest. But he finally looks up at me with a smile on his face and nods. I move to hop off the examination table, but Loki's hand grabs and tangles in the fabric of my long sleeve shirt, effectively stopping me.

"Thank you," he whispers. "For being so nice to me. The others have all been so cold." He lowers his voice even more, if that's even possible. "No one's told me yet about who I am."

I don't want to tell him, because I'm afraid he'll do something reckless. So instead, I settle on giving his arm a tight squeeze before leaving the lab.

* * *

I awake that night to a soft knocking at my door.

I drag myself sluggishly out of bed and clamber over to the door, rubbing at sleep-laden eyes. The drowsy fog starts to lift though as I open my door to find Loki standing there, a pillow clutched in one hand and a blanket in the other. His eyes are wide and he's shivering, and I immediately feel bad for him.

"How did you find my room?" this is the first thing that pops into my head, and it takes me a moment before I realize I've actually said it aloud.

"I asked Jarvis," he replies guiltily. He's seen the others speak to Jarvis before, so it doesn't surprise me that he's already figured it out. "I'm sorry, I just woke up scared and cold and I didn't want to be alone. Can I stay here with you? I'll sleep on the floor, I don't care—"

I touch his arm. "Loki, you're freezing. You can't sleep on the floor." I instinctually pull him closer, trying to warm him up. He shivers, from the contact or my warmth I'm not sure.

I pull him into my room and shut the door behind him. He moves over towards the bed, and casts me a second glance before climbing in and burying himself among the pillows and comforter. He looks surprised as I climb in beside him, pulling him closer to me so he can warm up. He scoots himself closer so I'm able to rest my chin on his head, and I wrap my arms around him.

In only moments he's sleeping soundly in my arms.

* * *

I wake up in a tangle of limbs and sheets.

Loki has turned himself over so he's facing me, and has buried his head in my chest. Our legs are tangled together and the sheets are all twisted up around us. He's still sleeping soundly, and through the windows I can see the sun is almost up. It's still quite early.

Loki shifts in my arms, and I look down to see him opening up his eyes.

"Steve?" he mumbles. "Steve what time is it?"

"Probably about six."

Loki shifts again and he grimaces, letting out a soft whine.

"What? Are you all right?" he moves away, clutching at his abdomen. I sit up and move to help him, but he pushes me away. When he pulls his hands away, there's a red blotch on his shirt and I suck in a breath.

"What happened?"

Loki pulls up the shirt, and the gauze bandage that had been covering the cut is crimson. He moves to pull his shirt back down, but I stop him.

"We have to go show Bruce. Something's wrong."

Loki whines again. "It hurts though. It hurts really bad."

"Then I'll carry you there," I don't even hesitate a bit when I say this, and I almost scare myself at how willing I am.

Tears prick at Loki's eyes. "It feels like there's a piece of glass lodged in there or something."

"You're going to be fine," I whisper, pulling him up to rest one hand underneath his knees and the other at his back. Loki hisses out another whine, and I carry him all the way to the lab, where I'm sure Bruce is.

* * *

"How did you get him here this fast? How did you even know about the wound?"

Bruce speaks in a low, calm voice as he patches Loki up. There was no sign of infection or anything, only that the cut had opened back up.

I swallow back the lump in my throat, not quite sure how to answer the question. Loki looks at me with clear blue eyes as if willing me to just answer with the truth, and I suddenly just give in.

"Loki stayed in my room last night," I say quietly, avoiding Bruce's gaze. When I look back at him he's quirked an eyebrow, an odd amused look on his face.

"Don't tell Tony that," he applies another piece of tape to the gauze. "You know the trouble he'll make of something as simple as that."

I'm surprised that that's all he has to say.

Right that moment Tony decides to walk in, a newspaper and coffee cup in hand. He furrows his brow for only moment before continuing on to what Bruce calls his "desk", and flips open to one of the file reports on Loki.

Bruce and I exchange a look before he excuses Loki. The darker haired man jumps off the metal examination table, and he glances at me as if he's about to say something when Tony interrupts.

"Hey Bruce, have you read this yet?"

He puts his glasses back on. "What?"

Tony gestures to the file, and nods his head in my direction only enough for me to catch it and guide Loki out of the lab.

"I'm sorry about last night, and this morning," Loki says. "I'm just so weak."

"You're not weak," I counter. "You're just recovering."

_Recovering. _

This word tastes bitter on my tongue.

* * *

I love reviews. They keep me going.


	2. Wonderwall

This is terribly short, and I feel bad because so many people love this story! I feel kind of stuck on this chapter, and the majority of it was written either late at night or early in the morning, so please excuse if there's some awkwardness.

* * *

**Song:**

**Wonderwall- Oasis**

* * *

Over the course of five days, I explain to Loki what the Avengers Initiative is and who we are. I'm pleasantly surprised when he sits and listens through my long stories about what my life was like before I'd become frozen, all about Bucky, and Peggy, and being in the army. He soaks it up and listens to every word, and afterward we sift through my old collection of comic books and he comments about how confusing the technology is in Stark Tower.

I feel like one of these days I'm going to wake up and it's all going to be a dream.

But still, not one of us comments about who Loki really is, and all Bruce and I are focused on is getting him better. Physically, he's doing _much _better than before. But mentally, he's still struggling. He wakes with nightmares every night, and he tosses and turns for hours before eventually falling asleep. I know this because it has become a habit of his of sleeping with me.

Clint and Natasha are distant, and rarely speak with him. Tony tries his hardest to be nice, and Thor just looks on his brother fondly with melancholy in his eyes.

It appears that Loki's powers are absent, according to the most recent tests. He's only a mortal now, but every comment they make about moving him I object. He's like a newborn child, and he still struggles with not knowing anything of his past. He'll ask questions every now and then, but none of us answers. We're all too scared of what he might do.

* * *

He wakes up screaming the next night.

It takes me a long time to calm him down, get him breathing right. There's so much fear in his eyes, and I just want to wash it all away, so I pull him close to me as he shivers in my grasp. His teeth chatter loudly and I feel suddenly like crying, because Loki is so broken and weak and I can't do a thing about it.

"Shh…" I rub soothing circles into his back and rest my chin on the crown of his head, his face buried in my chest. "You're fine, you're all right." I feel like I'm lying to him, and every word I say doesn't feel right on my tongue.

"I'm not alright," he whispers. "I'm not going to be alright."

"Yes you are," my voice is firm, and I won't let him believe otherwise. "It'll pass eventually."

"You know that's not true."

A few hot tears fall down my face, and I bury my nose in his hair. Who am I kidding? The nightmares have just been getting worse, and certain things still set him on edge. He hates metal, and needles, and too much physical contact all at once without permission is overwhelming. I just keep telling him it's going to be all right, but somehow I'm lying to myself as well.

How long will it take for him to get better?

I'm willing to wait for as long as it takes just for him to be healthy, physically _and _mentally. The others won't do anything, but I'm not going to give up on him. I can't just let him be alone, given up on as a lost cause.

I suddenly realize how similar his situation is, and how much I'm relating him to myself. I was rejected from the army _fives times_, and it hurt to feel rejected and unwanted and cast aside as a lost cause. I don't want him to feel like that. It's honestly a terrible feeling.

"Go back to sleep," I whisper. "I'll stay awake."

I realize how attached we've become in this short time.

* * *

He's on me like a leech, and we sit at the television watching some mindless show that people find interesting these days. Loki's curled up at my side with his head rested on my chest, and I absently run fingers through the edges of his silky hair. It's these moment that he looks and feels genuinely happy for once.

It's not that long until he's suddenly asleep in my arms.

"Hey Capsicle, can you help me with something?"

I look up, and Tony is standing by the T.V., arms crossed over his chest. I mutter something and stand up, resting Loki on the couch. It's not long before I get confused at to what Tony wants to me to do, because he's practically speaking in a different language, and he finally just tells me to hold this big piece of metal or something while he looks at it and types things into his screens.

"It seems you've become quite attached to him."

I don't answer, and Tony just pauses and quirks an eyebrow at me. I clear my voice. "Well, he needs help. He has terrible nightmares, and it's hard for him to sleep alone, so I just—"

"You don't need to explain," for once Tony is actually serious. "I'm not asking for some sort of validation for your actions. You can do whatever you want. I'm merely making an observation."

I swallow thickly, and set the big metal frame thing down as Tony walks away. "When should we tell him?"

Tony shrugs. "I don't know. I'm afraid you'll probably have to make that choice in the end, Cap."

"Hey, what are you talking about?"

I glance up from my hands. Loki looks disheveled and his eyes are red from sleep, and I notice that his clothes still look like they're much too big on him. "Oh, nothing you need to worry about."

Loki's eyes narrow, and then he just shrugs. "I woke up and you weren't there, so I asked Jarvis."

"Really taken to that AI, haven't you?" Tony mutters under his breath. "Isn't that right Jarvis?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"Never mind, ignore my babbling, Jarvis."

Loki offers a hesitant smile, but it breaks and falls before I can catch enough of it. "Can I talk to you, Steve?"

"Yeah, sure."

Loki tugs at my shirtsleeve as we walk out, and he almost reminds me of a small child. He clings to me with everything in that one little grip on my wrist, as if it's the only thing holding him to the ground with the exception of gravity. He leads me out of the underground garage, and now we' re going upstairs.

"Are you all right?" my voice breaks at the end, but I try my hardest to hide it.

Loki shrugs and avoids my gaze, seating himself at the sofa again.

"That's bullshit, you're not okay." I put a hand at his forehead, and nearly jerk away entirely. He's freezing, and now I know the reason why he wasn't touching the skin of my wrist. "You're so cold. What happened?"

Loki starts to shake. "I fell asleep, and the dreams came back. I got scared because you weren't there. They were worse this time though, and now they come whenever I fall asleep. They're so vivid now…"

I'm not conscious of my own actions as I slowly gather him in my arms. We lay there on the couch, and I hold him tight until the shivering starts to go away and his skin comes back to a normal temperature. Bruce finds us there, curled up around each other when he says that dinner is ready. I don't want to untangle us, but we have to.

Loki doesn't sleep with me that night.

* * *

It's oddly quiet that night, and I'm not used to sleeping without another body there. I feel oddly rejected, but I know it's his choice to sleep where he wants.

I toss and turn, my mind worrying over him. Since when did I become so attached to him? What is this called, our relationship? Codependence? I'm not sure what to call it exactly. It's not like we're romantically involved or anything.

But this idea of codependence consumes me. Are we too attached for it to be healthy? He needs me most of the time to get to sleep at night, and that always worries me. He's anxious most of the time without my touch…

Have I become his antibiotics? Am I just holding him back? These questions whirl through my mind at a million miles an hour, and soon they just tire me and I fall into a dreamless sleep.

Only to be awoken again twenty minutes later by knocking at my door.

It's no surprise when I find Loki standing there, his same pillow in hand and red rimmed sleepless eyes. He's quiet, and then I pull him close, and he settles into my familiar touch. I guess he realized he couldn't last very long without me. I drag him into my room and we collapse in bed, immediately curling against one another's frame. It's not long before I feel _real _sleep take me.

_Codependence_.

This word is the last bitter remnant of my thoughts before I fall asleep.

* * *

Reviews for the lonely writer?


	3. Find A Way

I'm not very happy with this chapter, and their relationship feels rushed...

Ack, I don't know.

* * *

**Song:**

**Find A Way- SafetySuit  
**

* * *

Pepper offers to take Loki and I shopping for new clothes. Apparently all the old t-shirts of Bruce's are too big and worn out, and I need some more modern looking ones. Before we leave, Tony says something about having fun on our 'girly trip'. I punch him in the arm.

We shop for a while, and Pepper hands us clothes to try on and gives her verdict on whether we should buy it or not. After about an hour we get hungry, and we decide to go get something to eat.

We're an odd group, and we get a few glances from people in the small coffee shop. A grown woman and two other grown men that seem to be quite attached to each other. For a moment I almost wonder what they think.

But then I realize that I don't care.

Pepper's phone starts ringing, and I nearly jump out of my chair. I'm still not quite used to the technology. She rolls her eyes and picks up, mouthing the word "Tony" before excusing herself and walking outside.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Stop asking that," for a moment Loki actually sounds offended, but then he smiles. "I'm fine, really."

I sip at my coffee. "I trust you."

Pepper comes back in. "Apparently we need to head back. Bruce…um, he needs to talk with Loki."

* * *

The only reason I'm sitting out in the hall is because Bruce said he didn't want me in there.

He wouldn't tell me what's wrong.

I sit out there for a while, until I hear something smash, like glass shattering. I immediately jump up; afraid Bruce is hulking out or something. I push the doors open to the lab, and see Loki sitting in a puddle of clear liquid, shards of glass scattered around him.

And he's _blue_.

"It seems his powers are not absent after all."

I look up at Bruce, and he's on the other end of the lab, holding up a syringe filled with some odd blue fluid. Loki, who's sobbing in the middle of the room, breaks off his response to my expression.

"What am I?"

We hold our breath, waiting for the other to answer.

"You're a Frost Giant," I whisper. "You're not from here."

He shakes, and he picks up one of the shards of glass and points it in my direction. "Tell me who I am!"

"I can't!" I raise my hands in defense. "Put the glass down, and maybe we can talk about this."

"I'm a despicable creature. I'm nothing," his hand slowly lowers. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"We weren't sure if you were mortal or not. We couldn't tell you about it if you were just human."

"That's a pathetic answer." He growls. "I want to know. I want to know why everyone hates me."

I send a look in Bruce's direction that says, _"what the hell did you do to him?" _He sets his syringe down, and answers. "I was testing him with the liquid, to see if he would react and that would be the verdict on whether he had his powers or not. He— he reacted."

Loki's image ripples a bit, and then he's back in his human form. "Somebody tell me. Somebody tell me who I am."

Neither of us answers, and I feel guilty for not responding.

* * *

Loki sits, rigid at the table. His eyes are blank and vacant, and I'm not quite sure what to do.

It's late, very late at night and he must've woken up and came into the kitchen. He looks like he's thinking, so deep in thought that he doesn't even notice me when I enter the room as well.

"Loki?"

His head snaps up, staring at me with wide alarmed eyes. "What are you doing up, Steve?"

"What are _you _doing up?"

He chuckles lightly at that, but his voice wavers. A frown replaces the fake smile in seconds. "It was worse this time. It felt so real, I just had to get up and walk around."

I sit down opposite him. "Are you feeling better, physically?"

He nods, fingertips brushing over my hand. "But I'm tired all the time, probably from the lack of sleep." He rubs a hand over his face. "It still— it still irritates me how much everyone keeps avoiding me. What are you all hiding? Who was I?"

I still don't answer, and unconsciously twine our fingers together. "Why do you need to know?"

"Because then maybe I'll understand," tears glisten in his eyes. "Then maybe I'll understand why everyone but you and Bruce hate me."

"Thor doesn't hate you—"

"He won't talk to me. No one will. It's like I'm a ghost, or a curse or something. Clint can't even look me in the eye. I'm not five, Steve, someone's got to tell me who I am eventually."

I stand abruptly and walk over to the sink. I fill a cup full of water, but don't drink it. I stand there and stare at it, unsure of what to do or how to answer.

"I think you should go back to bed. You're tired, we'll talk about it in the morning." I respond stiffly.

"What is there to talk about?" he mutters darkly. I hear his chair his squeak against the linoleum floor and now he's standing in front of me. He's quiet for a few moments until he speaks again. "I have some memories. They're in the dreams Steve, and I can't get rid of them. They're bits and pieces, but they're all so vivid and so real, I feel like I've actually been there."

He knows he's struck a chord with me.

"Just tell me."

"Why are you so desperate to know?" I ask accusingly. "Why do you care? You're here now and you're getting better and that's all that matters."

"The only reason you keep saying that is because I was a bad person, Steve." One lone tear falls down his cheek, and he wipes it away angrily. "You're all lying to me because I was a terrible person. I figured it out myself, because in all those nightmares I'm always betraying someone. Just, why didn't you tell me? Because you didn't trust me?"

"I trust you, Loki. We just didn't want you do anything reckless."

"Reckless…" he mutters. "Reckless? Like what? This?"

He slaps me, and the skin on skin contact is like a gunshot in the quiet kitchen. I rub at my cheek, and I finally the see the cold, unadulterated fury that came with the old Loki. His hand falls at his side.

"Or this?" he whispers through clenched teeth.

And then he kisses me.

The cup of water somehow ends up on the tile floor, spilled. My hands scrabble for purchase somewhere, and they end up in his hair, tugging and pulling as he swipes his tongue inside my mouth and it becomes hot and wet and angry. There's no stopping now, because Loki has lit the flame and now it's a raging fire.

And Tony's voice is that bucket of ice water.

We both jerk away, but Tony has already seen. We're disheveled and red in the face from fighting and from kissing as well. Tony just stands in the doorway, with a look on his face that says, "_it is way too late for this shit to be happening, so I'm just going to ignore it and go back to bed"_.

"Sorry," he waves at us. "Didn't mean to intrude. I'll be leaving now." He walks away, leaving the two of us alone again.

Moonlight washes in along with the bright city lights from the kitchen window, and there aren't any other lights on in the room. We stare at each other for a long while before Loki hugs me, burying his face in my chest. He's still so thin, and it pains me to see him so small.

My mind is still buzzing from the kiss, and I can't think coherently. We're quiet and we just breathe in each other, waiting for the other to say something that could possibly explain what just happened.

"I like being reckless," Loki murmurs into my chest.

I chuckle and kiss the top of his head.

* * *

He's gone the next night, and the night after that as well.

I'm worried, and I'm surprised, and I feel like half of me is missing, and I can't sleep. I wake in the night, clutching onto the pillow with my life as if it's Loki, but I know it's not. I shake, and I'm cold. I'm almost tempted to go to his room instead.

_It must've been the kiss._

I'm not sure why this is first thought in my mind, but I just feel like somehow he's afraid if he shows up again I'll reject him. But I want him back, I want to hold him and bury my nose in his hair, and I want to kiss him—

What am I thinking?

My mind is so blurry from not sleeping, that I just assume these thoughts are not in my right mind.

_You just don't want to love him_.

What?

_You're afraid. _

I shout something incoherent and throw my pillow at the wall. I'm not sure why I'm frustrated, and it hurts that I'm not sure why. I get up and pull my sketchbook and pencil out, walking over to the window where I see the horizon of skyscrapers.

I start to draw.

* * *

Too soon? I don't know... I'm doubting myself...


End file.
